Lost Innocence
by inky.pinky.106
Summary: Sequel to 'Tainted Purity'. The innocence of Adam Banks was lost and his murderer's still on the loose...(WARNING: spoilers for 'Tainted Purity'.)
1. Echoes

**Disclaimer:** Same as always. Don't own 'em, don't intend to.

**Previously:** _At the end of 'Tainted Purity' the Ducks had all gathered to say a last goodbye to their friend Adam Banks, little knowing he had been murdered by their team mate Charlie. Only Fulton and Dwayne know what really happened, but they won't confess. Dwayne won't tell because, after a tempestuous relationship with Charlie, he's been left terrified and broken; and Fulton's silence was bought through an unspoken threat from the murderer at the scene of his crime._

_Before the funeral, a police enquiry had taken place, the verdict of which was suicide. All the evidence needed to prove this conclusion had been found-the knife that had killed Adam, the motive, even the fatal wound. It was all lies, but the police were blinded by the tragedy of the violent 'suicide'. Dwayne and Fulton both know everything was carefully planned by Charlie, but neither of them can say anything, because the consequences would be unimaginable. _

_An inquisition never took place, because the investigators didn't want to disturb the 'grieving process' of the relatives and friends. What they didn't know was that Adam's parents hardly care that he's dead and all his 'friends' but two have already numbed to the pain of loss. _

_But Fulton and Dwayne are finding it hard to adjust. The latter has returned home to Austin for a week to be alone with his family, but Fulton has remained at Eden Hall, desperate to leave the past behind but afraid to forget Adam..._

Chapter 1: 'Echoes'

"_You've betrayed me, let everyone forget about me…they all think I'm crazy!"_

"No! It's not like that! Charlie-" 

"_Charlie? This isn't about him, it's about you, and your lousy promises!"_

"Please, understand! You must know what I'm going through…" 

_"Going through? Compared to me you're not going through anything! You think this is bad? Try being me for once!"_

"But-" 

"_Coward."_

"No! I-"

"_Coward!"_

"Please believe me!"

"_COWARD!"_

"NO!"

I jerk awake, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. Fear and shame are still making me tremble and the images of my nightmare seem to be lurking in every corner of the room. Visions of Adam, covered in blood and shouting in anger, his finger pointing at me in accusation are with me even now, causing me to shudder. He looked so furious and reproachful, his eyes burning into me, following me wherever I went so that I couldn't hide from the baleful glare, the darkness of his wound reflected in them, magnifying it and forcing me to see it…

It's been like this every night since we buried Adam. I keep getting these nightmares about him, ones where he dies in my arms again then rises to start shouting at me, hitting me and screaming, until he turns into Charlie and smiles slowly, waving a huge, blood-drenched knife in my face. Worse than that are those like the one I just had, where its just Adam and me surrounded by heavy blackness. He shouts and shouts, getting angrier, always accusing me of betrayal, broken promises and telling me he hates me, that it's my fault he died…I'm starting to think I'm going mad.

But maybe it is a guilty conscience? I don't believe in ghosts or messages from the grave. The only reason I'd be having these dreams would be if I'd done something wrong. And I have, I know I have. I should've told the police the truth about Adam, about his dad, about Charlie…instead I let Conway intimidate me and I backed out, showing myself for the coward I really am.

"_Coward."_

The echoes of my dreams are always there, always watching. I can't get through a single hour without hearing Adam's recriminating voice hissing at me, haunting me endlessly. I just don't know what to do anymore.

I look around the room, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness as they travel over shadowed objects. Across from me is Adam's bed, the covers still slightly wrinkled from the last time he used it. I haven't touched it, too afraid to go near it. I don't want to disturb the last memories I have of my friend. But until I do, I'll never be able to get on with my life…

Suddenly, I know what to do. Resolve steadies my limbs as I reach out and switch on my lamp, sliding from my bed and crossing to Adam's. All his things are still lying around it, stacked neatly and just as he left them. He was only here a very short time; nearly everything's still packed away. I stride through the room purposefully, picking up anything of Adam's and returning his possessions to an open bag, placing them in neatly, almost reverently, but putting them in all the same. Eventually I've gathered the few belongings that were lost under my own and I'm down to the last shirt. But as I fold it carefully and kneel to put it into the bag, my eye catches a swift glimpse of pale blue from underneath the pillows on Adam's bed. Rising a little, I reach out slowly and pull them aside to find a small, fat book lying against the yellow sheets. I slide it towards me and study the hard cover and silver clasps. It looks like…a _diary_. Adam's? But…

I try to put the little book into the bag, along with everything else, but something stops me. I shouldn't do this, it's not mine. Even if he's dead, Adam's still entitled to privacy.

Before I realise what I'm doing, however, I've pulled back the cover and gently opened the book. Some of the pages are wrinkled, and crackle softly beneath my fingers…this is wrong…

Or is it? All this time I've felt ashamed because we didn't understand Adam, but here's my chance to change that. If I read through this I can finally get an insight into what his life was really like, and maybe lay the nightmares to rest…

Maybe.


	2. One Last Time

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Mighty Duck, Dream Theater, or Dream Theater's lyrics.

Chapter 2: 'One Last Time' 

(Dwayne)

Graveyards are so quiet, so peaceful…I'd never noticed before. I didn't mean to come here, tried to stay away, in fact. But memories have pulled me back; to the last place I want to be right now. I've only been here twice, but already my feet know the way, pulling me inexorably onwards to a sight that's been stuck in my mind for days.

There he is, just like always. He'll always be there, never moving, never changing. Someone's been recently, most likely Fulton. He left flowers, but already they're wilting; lying shrivelled and fragile against their small clay vase. It's a simple vessel, plain and unglazed, but somehow elegant and just right for Adam. I stare at the sad floral display for a few moments, before turning to the fresh bunch of flowers in my arms. Kneeling, I pull gently at the dead carnations, laying them aside reverently…they were Fulton's tribute, given in sorrow and the ache of loss, they shouldn't be lightly cast aside. Carefully I separate myself from the blooms in my hands and slide them into the pot, adding a little fresh water from a bottle in my rucksack. Kneeling back, I look up at the headstone, the words still curt and sharp, not yet rounded smooth by weather.

The headstone…Fulton and I encouraged the rest of the Ducks to pool some money for it. We told them we were repaying the Banks', as a present and they gladly gave all they had. The truth was that Adam's family had forgotten entirely about it, perfectly willing to let their youngest son lie in an unmarked grave. It didn't bear thinking about. We couldn't let him be disowned like that, so we used the money to get the best we could…it's the only thing we can do for Adam now: make sure he's remembered properly.

_In Loving Memory of _

_Adam Richard Banks_

_Who died aged 15_

'_One last time_

_We'll lay down today, _

_One last time,_

_Until we fade away.'_

The words on the bottom were chosen by Fulton. They're the lyrics from a song…he thought they sounded appropriate. I'm inclined to agree.

"Here you go Adam." I say softly, shifting the small vase slightly. "Hope you like them…they're the last of the summer roses. They're the best I've seen in a long time." It's true, they are beautiful. Such big, sweet-smelling blooms, their petals a soft cream colour, blushed with pale pink. And yet so fragile, so delicate looking…"I saw them and thought of you."

Everything has a very surreal edge to it right now; nothing's sunk in yet. I'm sitting here, on the sun-warmed grass in the middle of a graveyard and talking to a headstone. I can't take any of this seriously…I keep expecting to see Adam step from behind the hulking, carved stone, a small, ethereal smile on his face. I'm still waiting for the laugh trickling from him in that familiar way, telling me it's all just a joke, that I should lighten up…

But somewhere inside me tells me it's never going to happen, because he's _dead_. One small part of me has taken stock of everything and is desperately trying to get me to face up to the truth. I went back home to try to get rid of it, but it didn't leave me for one moment, despite my efforts. I spent every day out riding, pushing my horse to his limits as I galloped him endlessly through pastures in an attempt to leave everything behind, especially the small, truthful voice. And at the end of it all, it's still there, still haunting me…there's only one way to get rid of it, but I don't want to admit that maybe Adam really is gone. He can't be, it just doesn't make sense. How could he be gone? He wouldn't just leave Fulton and me, wouldn't abandon us because of Charlie…

But that's exactly what he has done.

"I'm sorry Adam, so sorry…I should've stopped him. I was too weak…forgive me…"

**Author's note:** Sorry for being cheesy and using lyrics on Adam's headstone, but it seemed like a good idea at the time! Dream Theater are an amazing band, though, so if you've never heard them before, I seriously suggest you check them out. I was hooked the first time I heard their stuff!

Oh yeah, just to make extra sure I'm not done for plagiarism…the lyrics belong to Dream Theater. I don't own the band; I don't own the lyrics.


	3. Silver Sorrow

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything originally created by Disney.

**Thanks:** To arcadie and troublesometwin1, thank you SOOOO much for all your reviews. You've both helped me amazingly and I think you deserve a huge clap. I'd give you Xmas cards, but I don't know where to send them. So, have a Christmas luv instead, guys…X-one for arcadie, X-one for troublesometwin1! Thanks again you two, I can't believe your dedication!

**Note:** I don't know if I'm allowed to do this, but I will anyway. All of you out there who are sitting around wanting a better alternative to my writing, try arcadie's fics, they knock spots off mine. 'Cowboy Lost' is a particular favourite of mine and was partly inspiration for 'Tainted Purity'. What are you waiting for? Go check 'em out! I'll still be here when you get back!

Chapter 3: 'Silver Sorrow'

(Fulton)

"_It doesn't matter where I go or what I do, I'm never accepted. The Mighty Ducks…why did I have to be transferred to a new team? The old one was bad enough…everybody knew I was different in some way and avoided me…but this is worse. They all hate me. It's almost like being at home again._

_They won't even talk to me. Except to make snide comments or insult me. They don't know how much it hurts…or maybe they do? Why can't they just leave me alone? What have I ever done to them? Well, the Hawks match…but I thought they were better than that…turns out the Dream Team's just like everyone else._

_Except Charlie Conway. He welcomed me, said hello, tried to be nice; but Jesse Hall pushed him back again, made him shut up. They all just stood and glared at me…I felt so small and dirty…but they can't know about…me, can they? _

_Did they see? The scars are deep and very dark, but I was so sure I'd kept them hidden…just like everything else. They don't realise the pain, don't see the damage…it's better that way. _

_No one should ever know._

_I wish I didn't either."_

I shut the diary with more force than intended. My hands are shaking badly and I know my eyes are wet with unshed tears. I can't read any more right now.

The same thing happened last night. I could only read a few pages before I had to put the book down and try to forget everything. Adam's life was worse than I ever thought…how did he live through all that? It's more than I can bear just reading it, but he dealt with it every day of his life…

A lump forms in my throat as I realise what a truly brave person he was. All the times when we laughed at him for being a loner or ignored him because he wasn't 'interesting' enough…he put up with it, added it to everything else…and we kept piling it on…

And he never blamed us.

If I believed in angels I'd think Adam was one. He was so quiet and calm, yet filled with so much rage, turmoil…shame…and some of it was our fault. It was the Ducks, his own team…

"_They're putting up with me now, but only because I can score goals for them. I can still see the mistrust and even hate in their eyes…well, some of them. Jesse's the worst, but at least he's open about his feelings. I admire him for that. It's something I've never been able to do, and probably never will be able to. _

_But Charlie…there's something strange about him. I get the feeling he's not who I first thought he was…that doesn't make any sense, I know. What I mean is…he's different inside. He shows one Charlie to the public but there's another just lurking within him, and I don't think it's a very nice side…"_

It's amazing. Adam saw the one thing the rest of us couldn't. He could see the true Conway, the monster inside…and he paid dearly for it. I rub the scrawling cursive reflectively, trying to imagine him writing these very words…the form of them is so unlike any of his writing I've seen before. Usually it's so neat and elegant…this is messy, hasty and viciously scratched into the pages. These aren't just Adam's thoughts written here, they're his feelings. These pages are full of the emotions he couldn't deal with…he poured them out onto paper so he wouldn't have to keep them locked inside. That's why he always seemed so calm, so quiet…this diary was like a sedative. It drained him and made him passive for a while. And when the diary wasn't enough…?

I turn to a page that's darker than the rest. The writing is difficult to read, as it's obscured by thick, shadowy smears. The page crackles when I touch it…this is Adam's pain. Not the writing…the blood. A faint noise causes me to focus more clearly on the page, where I see a small, shining pool wrinkling the already imperfect surface, and as I watch, another falls to join the first. A steady rain of sorrow dampens the open page as choking sobs begin to throb from my throat in a melancholy, hollow moan.

It's all our fault…

"…Fulton?"

(Dwayne)

Despite my misgivings, it's good to see Eden Hall again. At home there was too much time to think, too few things to take my mind away from the past few weeks. But here there's noise, activity and the urgency of everyday life. I can at last bury myself in something and give it my full attention…ignore the truth for a little longer perhaps…

It's time for me to go back. There's a feeling of guilt when I think about how I've just abandoned Fulton, left him to deal with everything on his own…it was selfish of me. But will he accept me? I've tested the frail strains of our rather new friendship, will they prove stronger than I thought, or will I be rejected by the last person I have? The thought is frightening, and a knot of apprehension tightens in my gut, making me feel sick and weak. I wouldn't be able to handle the pain of his anger…but why? Do I see him as a friend? Or maybe…

"…Fulton?"

I can't believe it. There he is, sitting on his bed, just the way I left him a week ago, as though he hadn't moved an inch. It's almost like my fervent thoughts and memories have caused him to appear from nothingness…and a surge of shame floods my stomach as I realise the brink they had been teetering on.

He heard me, though, and now I can see him clearly for the first time in weeks. Obviously my short holiday has cleared some things up, because only last week I barely knew if he was there or not. Now I can see so much more. He's looking thinner than before, as though he hasn't been eating properly, and there's a soft vulnerability in his shady eyes, watered with flowing tears. At once I'm at his side…what's happened to my big, strong Fulton? My protector and friend? Why does he look so small and defeated? As my mouth forms these words, he falls onto my shoulder, sobbing quietly and gripping my shirt in tortured fists.

"Even we were guilty Dwayne…we were supposed to be his friends and even we were guilty!"

"What…?" I don't understand what he's trying to tell me, but before I can ask for a straight answer, Fulton thrusts a book into my hands. I look down, momentarily startled, at the small, blue cover. It looks like a notebook, the kind kids use in class…I pull back the cover and read the first page:

_This journal belongs to Adam Richard Banks._

"Oh…" It's the most I can say. I returned only moments before, thinking that I had at last put everything behind me, willing to make a fresh start, and now here's the one thing that can bring it all flooding back. One, small, battered book. I wasn't ready for this. As I let the journal tip back, into my lap, it falls open at a random page. I can't stop myself from reading the entry. As I skim the obscure writing I shudder at the dark stains I know are Adam's blood…but there's something else, wet and shining on the page…Fulton's tears. This page alone is now layered with the pain of more than one person…it's like a work of twisted, screaming art. The writing itself is wild and angry, shaking all over the page and blanketing it are marks of hate, shame…

And over those are three damp spots of silver sorrow. I begin to add my own, holding onto Fulton for fear of losing the last of my sanity.


	4. Starting Again

**Disclaimer:** For the love of…We all know who owns Mighty Ducks, and we all also know that it ain't me. Everybody clear on that? Good.

Chapter 4: 'Starting Again'

(Fulton)

I always used to hate Mondays, because it would signal the beginning of another week. The continuation of my struggle against teachers, preppies and Advanced Physics. Now its just another day…the continuation of my struggle against memory. So much has changed, and yet so much is still the same. The corridors are still crowded and noisy, the third locker on the left of the Dean's office still squeaks, that Van Gough reproduction print's still hanging at an angle…

And yet…

The differences are subtle, barely noticeable. Down the trophy corridor a picture of Adam's been hung up, a new memorial hockey cup is up for grabs. A tree's been planted outside the main entrance and there's a plaque up in the school chapel. There was a memorial service as well, but I didn't go. It was too soon after the funeral.

And everyone's already forgotten. It's almost as though he never existed. But in my heart he never left. It sounds crazy, but I still talk to him. Mostly apologising, but the dreams are starting to fade, since I emptied our…my room, and discovered his diary. I understand so much more now. And feel even worse.

The math room's still fairly empty, and as I walk in Mr. Combs gives me a startled look. I'm never early and rarely on time. But that was an age ago, a different Fulton Reed. Everything's new now, every experience without my friend is fresh, replacing anything I remembered before. It's like being a little kid again and going to the zoo for the first time. An experience you never forget.

I take my place at the back of the class and pull out my books, ready to block out all thought and consciousness with the droning greyness of higher math.

And yes, despite most people's opinion that I've got the IQ of a chicken, I happen to be in a lot of the 'nerd' classes. Funnily enough, they don't take that fact into account when they talk to me. Subsequently I get treated like a four year old with hearing problems, but right now I'm not complaining.

I look up as Dwayne shuffles in, blinking wearily in the bright October light. He gives me a small smile when he sees me and makes his way over to a seat next to me.

"You left me this morning." He murmurs. There's an odd look in his eyes that I fail to read. It surprises me, because he's usually such an open person that even Averman can translate his expressions. I shrug.

"Thought you could do with the sleep. You were up pretty late last night."

"Couldn't get settled. Things're still a bit weird, you know?" I nod. Of course I know. "There was a note on the door when I left…hockey practise is at four…" His voice is quiet and as his gaze meets mine I see a shadow of light glimmer around his lids. I know the same tears are in my eyes. "I don't know if I can…"

"Of course you can Dwayne!" I hiss as others start to file into the room. "We both can. We have to. For the rest of the team…for Adam. He wouldn't want us to ruin the Ducks' chance at state finals." Dwayne nods and gives a wavering smile.

"You're right. What would I do without you?" Again I see that strange expression, but ignore it and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You're the only one I've got now, and I'm going to look out for you. We're in this together." He bows his head, still smiling.

"Till the end." He replies.

Before I can say anything else, we're interrupted by a couple of voices calling quietly to us.

"Dwayne, Fulton…" I look up to see Julie and Connie in front of our desks, their faces pale and drawn.

"Hey girls." Dwayne answers.

"How you two holding up?" Asks Julie, her quiet eyes concerned.

"Okay…" I mutter, tilting my head slightly in a half-hearted shrug. Connie opens her mouth to say something, but at that moment the bell rings and Mr. Combs calls the class to order. I wonder briefly what she may have been about to tell me…it seemed like it was important…

She glances over her shoulder as she makes her way to her seat, mouthing something to me, but I can't decipher what it is. I shrug helplessly and shake my head, causing a look of disappointment to cross her face. What's so important I wonder?

The class settles, already ten minutes late, but just as Mr. Combs begins the lesson we're interrupted by the door opening and someone sliding through it. I look up in curiosity, only to see Linda, Charlie's girlfriend slipping into her seat.

"She looks really ill." Whispers Dwayne from my right, his expression troubled. I nod, slightly disconcerted, noticing the death-like pallor of her skin and the deadened, lifeless look in her eyes. There's a strange edginess to her figure even when she's sitting down, only heightened by the fact that she's keeping her head low, avoiding anyone's gaze.

"You don't suppose Charlie's done anything to her do you?"

"I…" He struggles to find something to say. "But…"

"He's still dating her you know."

"Yes" his voice comes out small and defeated, and he hunches his shoulders in sadness. "He taunted me about it while we were together. Kept comparing me to her and telling me how much better she was, how much more spirit she had…how hard he hit her for it…"

"Oh God. Dwayne!" I snarl under my breath. "Why didn't you tell me this before? She obviously needs help!"

"I…there was so much going on…what with Adam and all…"

Oh. Yes. That would be a very good reason. "Sorry Dwayne, I just-"

"I know, and I agree with you."

"You do?"

He nods. "We should talk to her, first chance we get. Maybe…maybe she'll understand better…about Adam and everything."

Of course. They're on the same wavelength, Dwayne and Linda. They've both had a relationship with Charlie, both understand far better than I do the violence and what sets him off. A small spark of hope ignites inside me…there's one other person who's seen the true Conway, who knows what he's capable of. With Linda, I might be able to give evidence…

"Taking a break already are we, Mr. Reed?" I surface from my thoughts to see Mr. Combs standing in front of me with a heavy frown and a detention slip. I groan inwardly, sighing. This day is going much further downhill than I'd anticipated. And with the prospect of hockey practise this afternoon, things are definitely not going to improve.


	5. Repetitions

Chapter 5: 'Repetitions' 

(Dwayne)

I try to stride confidently into the changing rooms for afternoon practise, but the fear of facing Charlie for the first time since Adam's funeral instils a terrible fear in me. I tell myself I shouldn't be scared, but I know its stupid. Of course I should be scared, it'll be the only thing that'll help me get through the practise in one piece. At least my senses might be more alert…I hope.

With my head down I make my way to a bench at the far end of the locker room where I can change hidden from view, dumping my kit bag down and sitting to remove my trainers. It's surprisingly quiet, the usual chattering and laughing is absent. Instead everybody's talking in soft voices or just sitting on the benches listening to each other. I guess the memory of our friend's harder for them to banish than Fulton thinks.

A slight breeze writhes across my face and I turn to see Charlie sitting beside me. My stomach gives a sickening lurch and I sense my skin start to crawl. He gives his lazy, dark smile and I know there's going to be trouble.

"Afternoon cowboy." He hisses, the deep blackness of his eyes smothering any glint of humanity he may once have had. After glancing once around the room he stretches out his hand and runs it up my leg, his expression daring me to throw him off. Instead I lower my gaze, unable to stand up to him. I feel the burn of shame that only a coward knows. I don't have any will left, he's made sure of that. "I missed you." He mutters into my ear, his breath warm and moist, his pointed tongue brushing my cringing skin softly, like a drip of poison. I wonder briefly if anyone's watching, but know deep in my heart that they aren't. Charlie's too clever to get caught; I should know that by now. Inside I cry softly…I used to love it when he kissed me with the same mouth that's now pressed against my neck, but all I feel is hate and disgust, and a cold, creeping shiver. "Where's your new friend?" He whispers, his tone condemning, but his composure never once slipping. He's in charge, he always is, and he knows it. It's frightening how calm and blank he is…it's not a normal state of relaxation, it's a cold, dead silence from deep inside. I find myself curious as to how he became this cruel and dangerous.

"F-friend?" I stammer, losing control of my voice slightly. "What-" I clear my throat hesitantly. "Which one would that be?"

"You know" He gives a snake's smile, "Fulton. Your new boyfriend."

"I don't know what you mean…"

"Sure you do, sweet. All those late nights in his room, missing meals…sharing his bed…"

"For your information," States a cold, quiet voice very suddenly, "he's been sleeping on the floor." Relief floods through me in a wave of warmth, erasing the slimy coldness of a few moments before. Fulton gives me a quick glance of reassurance, then snaps his sparking gaze back to Charlie. The look on Conway's face is one of pure, undiluted hate. He usually saves that one for special occasions. I notice with some satisfaction that his cool, smooth composure's slipped, but a second later he hitches it back and slides up from the bench to stand nose to nose with Fulton.

"Has he now? I'll believe that when I see it." He gives me a contemptuous look. "I'd watch him if I were you, he might just start taking advantage of your hospitality…he doesn't expect much from a boyfriend."

"Evidently." Replies Fulton, raising an eyebrow and folding his arms across his chest. Charlie's at a loss for words. He opens his mouth to say something, but can't seem to formulate a decent reply, so he shoots me one last wink before slipping past Fulton, deliberately brushing his hand against his crotch. I see him shudder and close his eyes, turning unusually pale. Once Conway's gone, he collapses onto the bench, shaking violently, a fine mist of cold sweat glistening on his forehead. I reach out a shaking hand and touch his arm. He flinches, then opens his eyes and grins apologetically.

"Sorry, still caught in the moment…"

"It's okay, I understand."

"I was so scared Dwayne…I've never experienced that before. It's like…now I know what he can do, I feel so vulnerable. He just makes me feel…so…cheap and-"

"I know." Only two words, but a wealth of meaning. I know, I always did…and now, Fulton knows too. I'm no longer alone…it's the first time in my life that I truly wish I was the only one. I don't want Charlie to make other people feel the way I do…

I feel Fulton punch me lightly on the arm and I return to the present, back to reality and to my only friend.

"Come on man," He murmurs, "let's get changed."

Does he know, I wonder? Did he take Charlie seriously? Should I tell him myself?

Tell him what?

That he's more than a friend to me…

Could he ever accept me? Would he return my feelings, or throw them back in my face?

I just don't know. These questions keep chasing round and round inside my head, until it aches and I'm weary with asking myself over and over…

And there's always the other thought…the one telling me _this isn't right_…


	6. Breaking The Silence

Chapter 6: 'Breaking The Silence'

(Fulton)

I join the team as they crowd against the bleachers, staring out across the ice in total silence, our breath misting slightly in front of our faces. No one moves, unwilling to be the first to disturb the heavy atmosphere. There's a slight tremor lingering in the rink, something that makes every one of us shiver and cower back, wishing for the warm safety of the changing rooms.

As though they'd rehearsed the movement, the others all turn to Dwayne and me, their eyes gazing unswervingly at us. I understand and nod once, walking forwards as they part; Dwayne following closely. Together we make our way the edge of the ice, the clattering of our skates seeming to shatter the silence. I stop before I can step onto the rink, staring at the smooth surface, my memories overwhelming. This is the place he died…it's where whatever was inside him left…spirit? Soul? Ghost? I don't know. Whatever it is, it feels like it hasn't gone…but its not a nice sensation. I can almost feel all the rage, depression, blackness from him, not the gentle, soft person he really was. The back of my neck tingles and I shift slightly, hating the deep shiver it sends down my spine. I turn to Dwayne, but he doesn't seem to sense the same thing…his eyes are unnaturally bright, but he's oddly peaceful. But he's not a betrayer; of course he wouldn't feel anything. Whatever I'm experiencing comes from my paranoia, I'm sure of it.

Because there are no such things as ghosts.

I hear Dwayne take a deep breath and look down to see him hover a skate over the ice. I follow suit, the feeling of darkness almost overwhelming, but I shake my head slightly and defiantly step into the rink.

I realise now that I've missed the feeling of ice gliding beneath my skates and I allow myself to smile, enjoying the rush of cool air on my face.

I'm back.

"I so wasn't ready for that!" Moans Goldberg, limping along beside me, causing me to smile. It certainly was a rigorous training session, owed to the fact that Orion tried to push us past our normal limits. We've got a match in a month, so he's working us harder than usual, in an attempt to raise our endurance, I suppose.

"Can it Goldberg," Sighs Portman, shaking his damp hair from his eyes, "we've heard it all before."

"Yeah, like a million times before." Laughs Connie, poking Goldberg in his rather prominent stomach. He fends her off indignantly.

"Hey, hey, hey! What have I told you about touching the Goldmeister?"

"Goldburger more like!" Jokes Averman.

"What was that?" Demands Goldberg, glaring at him.

"Uh… I mean…well…its not that you're overweight or anything but...uh...bye!" He grins and shoots off down the corridor, Goldberg attempting to follow. I laugh a little, starting to feel slightly more 'normal' at last.

"Hey Fulton," Kenny nudges me and I glance down at him, my eyebrows raised.

"You prodded?"

"I did, yeah," he gives a grin, "we're all going to the diner down the road, wanna come?"

I consider his offer…it's been a while since I did anything with the rest of the Ducks, and I'm starting to feel a little lonely. The time for enforced solitude has long gone, in my opinion. "Sure" I shrug, "why not?" It might be fun, knowing these guys. "How 'bout it Dwayne? You up to some socialising?" I look across at the tall, silent figure, his red hair gleaming darkly after his shower. He gives me a smile and nods.

"I guess so, yeah. Being alone just isn't fun anymore." He grins in his gentle way at the others and they huddle closer to clap him on the back. Yes, things are starting to feel a lot better.


	7. Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

**A/N:** Slight language in this chapter. Not bad, but I suppose I ought to forewarn.

Chapter 7: 'Two Steps Forward, One Step Back'

(Dwayne)

I'm glad I agreed to come along… I never realised just how much I missed the others until now. We're all sitting in the small, brightly-lit diner just down the road from school, munching away on burgers and fries and drinking coke to our hearts' content. I'm trying to ignore the thunderous belches from my left…Portman challenged Fulton to a burping competition and Fulton being…well, Fulton, accepted. It's actually funny in a rather childish, disgusting way. I haven't had this much fun in weeks. And it's great to see the others all smiling again. Its made me realise that nothing I did could've stopped what happened to Adam, and I should just accept that he's gone, like the rest of the Ducks have, instead of dwelling on what would've happened if I'd never said anything to him about Charlie. I understand now that its not my fault and that I'm actually honouring Adam's memory by picking up the pieces, taping them together and carrying on with life as a tribute to him. All that time I was searching for redemption and it was right under my nose, in the form of eight wonderful people.

Charlie's missing though. He stayed behind at school with the excuse that he had homework to get done. The others teased him a bit, but eventually we got away and now we're considering what to do after we've eaten.

"Why don't we go see a movie?" Suggests Ken, his dark eyes scanning the local paper in front of him. I guess he's looking at the movie listings.

"What's on?" Asks Portman, flicking fries at Fulton.

"Hm…well, there's 'High School Heart Breaker'…"

"No chick flicks!" Cry Averman and Goldberg.

"Okay…how about 'Golden Gun 2'?"

"They've made a sequel? The first movie was bad enough."

"That'll be a no then. 'Bloodsucker By Nature'? That's just come out, but the reviews are good."

"Is that a horror?" Grins Julie, her eyes bright at the prospect.

"Yep, apparently the scariest one you'll ever see…" He glances up from the newspaper. "Who's up for it?" A chorus of 'I'm game' and 'Yeah, cool!' echoes round the table and Ken folds the paper resolutely. "Right then, that's settled. 'Bloodsucker By Nature it is!" Everybody cheers and we start gathering things together to leave. As I stand, I feel a hand at my elbow and Fulton's voice mumbles into my ear: "Can I sit with you? I hate scary movies."

* * *

At the movie theatre we all pool our money and send Portman to get the tickets and Connie and Guy to get the food and drink. We made Dean get the food once before and let's just say that we're not going to make that mistake again.

After a huge debate involving a condom and Guy's wallet (we're still teasing him and Connie about it, he still denies any knowledge of it), we finally sort ourselves out and make for screen 6, Connie and Guy blushing for all they're worth. I sit impatiently through the ads, waiting for the movie to start, and when it does, I turn at grin at Fulton, who gives a worried grimace in return. I laugh to myself and pat his shoulder.

"It'll be fine, you'll see."

"Fine? This would only be fine if we were sitting through a girlie movie. They're the only ones I can watch!" He sounds panicky, and I'm not sure if he's joking or not, but I laugh anyway.

Within minutes of the beginning we've been thrilled and spilled (I knew we shouldn't have got drinks) by what promises to be a very frightening three hour romp with vampires. But beside me I can feel Fulton start to shake and as I look over I see him sink into his seat, his hands over his eyes. I take pity on him and lean over, touching his arm lightly. He screams and jumps, making everyone else in the row jump too. I grin and shake him a little.

"Hey, Fulton…it's only me!" I whisper. His wide eyes are glistening in the meagre light and he smiles in mild relief.

"Sorry Dwayne. I told you I couldn't handle horror movies."

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be sorry. Even I'm scared."

"Really?" He sounds so young and defenceless. I feel my heart melt at his cuteness.

"Yeah. But don't worry…I'm here for you…" Taking a huge chance, I look around then place my hand on his thigh. It doesn't seem to register with him for a moment, but as I begin to smile and relax, he turns his gaze back on me, his expression horrified. Jumping up and scattering his popcorn he leaps away from me and strides from the screen room. My heart's pounding hard against my chest and I can feel tears forming in my eyes.

"Poor guy" mutters Portman from beside me, "he's always hated horror films. I'm surprised he lasted that long." He grins and I feel myself return with a weak smile, but I know that's not why Fulton just left.

What would Portman say if he knew what had really made his best friend leave so suddenly? I groan and cover my face with my hands. I've really messed up this time.

* * *

(Fulton)

I've gotta leave, gotta get out. I didn't…wasn't…what the hell just happened?

I knew Dwayne was…different, but I didn't think he would…I mean…I'm…straight…I don't…oh God, the look on his face when I ran out…what have I done to him?

It was just a reaction, a stupid reaction…but I what else could I do? Pretend it was okay for him to come onto me, just because I didn't want to hurt him? I mean, I like the guy as a friend and everything but…not…

I can't help the way I feel. I don't like him like that, I can't. It's not in me to be that way. But the pain of rejection in his eyes…

I'm aware of streets passing in a blur as I stride back to Eden Hall, desperate to get back to somewhere normal, somewhere where I can sort my head out. I can't think straight…I laugh slightly at that expression…of course I can. What I mean is, I can't think gay. Why would Dwayne come onto me? For one thing I thought he had better taste than that.

As I look up, in the middle of my thoughts, I see the gates of the school loom up in front of me, tall and cold, almost forbidding for some reason. Shaking my head, I carry on towards the dorms, my hands in my pockets, the cold of the late autumn seeping through my thin jacket. While passing the quad between the girls' and boys' dorms however, I hear a quiet sob. Halting immediately, my curiosity aroused, I make for the origin of the sound. Who on earth would be out at this time, and why are they so upset?

As I round the screening trees, I see a figure come into view, hunched on a bench, their knees tucked against their chest, supporting their head. I walk slowly towards the stranger, holding my hand out, my previous distress forgotten in the light of someone else's.

"Hello?" I call softly, not wanting to frighten whomever it is. The person before me jumps and swivels round suddenly, and I breathe in sharply.

"Linda?"

She stares at me for a moment as though she doesn't recognise me, then seems to dissolve, her shoulders slumping, her face caving in as more tears fall, soaking her face and making her sniffle.

"Hey, hey…what's wrong?" I'm surprised to find concern in my voice and I cross to the bench in three strides, straddling it to sit beside her and shake her gently. "Linda?" I say again, curiosity burning at me. A thought hits me so suddenly I can almost feel myself bend at the metaphorical collision. "Does this have something to do with Charlie?" There's a slight change in her choking sobs and she looks up once more to stare at me, still beautiful despite her tears. There's a look in her eyes, as though she's assessing me, then she gives a small nod and breaks down again. Charlie. I should've known. Who else could make so many people miserable in one day?

Murmuring comfort and care, I reach out and pull her to me, making incomprehensible noises that seem to ease her anguish. The tenseness in her back starts to ebb away and she slowly quietens, her fingers tangled in my shirt in a bid for security.

"So, are you going to tell me what this is all about, or am I going to have to go pound it outta Conway?" Normally that would make her laugh, (how many times have I had to offer to settle their arguments before?) but this time she just wipes her eyes and draws away from me again, seeming to shrink into herself. This time something's different. "Linda," my voice had become deadly serious, "what did he do to you?" But she just shakes her head.

"I…can't…" she stammers, her voice still clogged in her throat.

"Of course you can. You have before." I rub her shoulder gently. "Tell me. Maybe I can help."

"You can't…no one can."

This sounds pretty bad. All possible conclusions are going through my head at top speed, confusing me. Has he beaten her? Has she found out about Dwayne? About Adam? What has Charlie done?

"Come on Linda, give it a try. You never know, perhaps it's not as bad as you think." Possibly the worst thing I could've said. I realise that before she starts shouting, before she even turns to glare at me. So I know exactly what's coming next, because I would say it too.

"Not as bad as I think? Not as bad as…Who the hell do you think you are Fulton Reed? You march in here and butt in, trying to pry into me like some kind of-of psychotherapist, trying to get me to talk about what can't ever be said! What does it have to do with you anyway? Who gave you a diploma and elected you national head-doctor for the troubled? And what good would it do? None, that's what! You can't help me, no one can! This is the end of the road for me, I have nowhere else to go, Charlie Conway's made sure of that! He's ruined my life, and now you're trying to get me to talk about it? Well fuck you Fulton, because you're not the one who's got problems here! You're not the one who's pregnant and…" She stops, her hands flying to her mouth at what she's just said.

Maybe I didn't know what she was going to say after all.


	8. Night and Day

**A/N: **Ok so I haven't updated in...er is it a year now? Maybe not that long. But still. I haven't exactly been inundated with requests to finish this (I haven't had ANY actually lol), but it has been playing on my mind for a while. So I'm trying to get it finished now I've got some time. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 8: Night and Day

(Fulton)

I don't quite know how, but I managed to get Linda back to my dorm room. Not even a close call from the hall patrol. Karma, it seems, is on my side for once. She's quiet and still in my arms as I lead her into my room and settle her on my bed. Her eyes are blank now, staring into space, her face unreadable and tear stained. I'm not really used to this kind of thing. What do you say to a girl when she's like this? What do you even say to a girl?

Think Fulton, think!

"Do you…want some water?" She looks up, her expression subtly registering recognition, a welcome change from the emptiness. She nods once, slowly. I sigh with relief and hurry to snatch a glass and fill it in the bathroom. As I wander back out I see she's shuffled herself further back, against the wall, her chin resting on her knees as she idly stares at a lock of hair she's twisting between her fingers. I hand her the glass and perch on the bed beside her.

"So…." My brain just dried up. I can feel it rattling like a pea in a can as I mentally pummel the interior of my skull. "Um…." Nice one Fulton. Just go the whole way and finish up with an "er" why don't you?

"Yeah," She mutters, a tiny smile on her lips, "I know what you mean." She glances up, a slight spark in her eyes. There's a hint of the Linda I remember. "Kinda...big huh?" I nod, glad that, despite my inert and careless mumblings, she's still on my wavelength. A rarity in itself. Not many people are ever on my station, so to speak. She sips some water slowly, staring at her feet. "I'm just so lost Fulton." She murmurs, fear in her voice and I see her hands shake slightly. It seems to kick me into some sort of action. I reach out and take the glass from her trembling hand and put an arm around her.

"It'll be ok. I know it doesn't seem like it, and that everything feels like it's totally out of control, but everything will turn out fine, trust me. I'm here to make sure it does." She twists in my arms until her small face is upturned, her eyes a clear grey-green.

"You can promise that kind of thing?" I nod and smile at her.

"'Course I can. It's me, Fulton Reed!" I puff up my chest and pull an Arnold Schwarzenegger face. She giggles and sighs into my neck.

"Thanks Fulton. I'm….glad you were there when you were. If that makes sense? It almost feels like everything's going to be…ok."

"It will. I'll take care of you." There's silence for a few moments. My brain hasn't stopped…now that it's finally in gear. What exactly am I going to do? What's going to happen to her? She's so young…and vulnerable. Charlie….ugh. I can't even start on that right now. But Linda…will she be able to stay at home? What about her parents? What about school?

A sob interrupts my pondering. And my shirt feels wet…now why…?

Glancing down I see Linda still enmeshed in my arms, so small and tiny, her face pressed into my chest, her shoulders trembling like leaves in a wind. I wrap my arms tighter round her, trying to squeeze into her all the care and love and safety that she needs right now. Strange, meaningless noises are whispering from my mouth, startling me. What has she made me do? I'm…I…can be comforting…hmm. I wonder what's upset her again? Shock wearing off? She's mumbling into my shirt…

"Hmm?"

"My parents!"

Same wavelength again? Twice in one lifetime for anyone else is rare, this is weird. "What about them?"

"They're going to murder me. I mean really!" She snuffles a bit and sits back some. Her nose as a little red, right on the tip.

And why did I notice that?

And why do I find it strangely….cute? She pulls her sleeve across her eyes and sniffs again.

"I'm doomed Fulton. They're going to kick me out." Her expression's miserable. "I've made such a mess of my life" She whispers forlornly. I feel totally useless. What on earth can I do or say that's going to make her feel any better at all?

"Hey, no, Linda it wasn't your fault!"

"It is! Oh Fulton it is! If I'd have just…if I'd…"

"If you'd what? Linda? What did Charlie do?" A horrible suspicion is forming in my mind. I try to look into her face, try to get her to answer my question. I have to know. Her eyes are shut tight and she's actually sobbing now. "Linda? You don't have to tell me but…I dunno maybe you'd feel better?"

"I don't know if I ever will Fulton. I just don't…ugh I'm so stupid!"

"You're not stupid Linda! Not at all…if Charlie's done something…"

"No…I could have stopped…could have…said…maybe…" Oh. That. Again.

"Linda…I think…you need to tell me what happened." She tenses and pulls away, shrinking against the wall again, looking for all the world like she'd love to just fade into it and become invisible.

"Nothing happened. Let's just drop it."

"I can't Linda. I think I know what happened to you. And if I'm right….it's happened before."

"Nothing happened to me. I was stupid, that's all. I made a mistake and now I deserve to pay for it."

"No, that's not right, and you know it. Deep down inside you, you know it."

"What…?"

"He…forced you didn't he? There was a fight? He turned out to be someone else…someone you never expected. Cruel, strong, bitter…twisted…" Silence. A long, heavy, aching silence. Finally:

"How…"

"You're not the only one Linda. He's hurt others. I've seen who he is. I know the truth. You, me and Dwayne. We know the truth. So whatever you say, I will believe you, because I'm not blind."

I've never seen gratitude like hers. Her expression's suddenly bordering on radiant through her tears, the relief that someone will believe her, the thought that maybe, just maybe, none of this is her fault after all…

"I never thought…I just…but how do you know all this? Did he tell you?"

Ah. I should've seen this coming. Do I tell her the truth? She deserves the truth. But she didn't really know Adam…and does that matter?

"Fulton?"

I sigh. "Linda…you remember my team mate Adam?" This is going to be a long night.

* * *

I blink drowsily as sunlight stabs unrelentingly at my eyelids. Pain. Intense pain my friend. What time is it I wonder? The clock shows 8 am, but it only feels like about five judging by the close relationship between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. I forcefully peel the two apart and groan quietly, rubbing my eyes vigorously to rid them of the multi-coloured fireworks display taking place. Last night begins to drift back to me in bits and pieces, events slotting themselves into place in my mind. First the cinema, then Dwayne…that needs sorting out as soon as possible…I glance over to his bed and see it's empty.

Great. Me and my uselessness all over again. He probably thinks I want to murder him or something. I sigh sadly. I wish I could be there for Dwayne in the way he wants but…it's just not possible. I can't…he's my friend. I don't want…oh crap. That's going to be one of the hardest conversations of my life, and I can't even articulate it properly in my head. Wonderful.

A small murmuring sound makes me twist my head slightly and look down. The rest of last night floods back. Linda, Charlie, the baby…

Linda's curled up against my chest, her eyes shut tight. She looks so…peaceful. Her lashes are throwing long feathered shadows across her cheeks in the morning sun, her lips are pursed like a little child's, rosy and soft. I can feel her hair across my neck, like velvet. There's a slight hint of vanilla scent in the air around us. The warmth from her is comforting, and it suddenly feels as though I've found something I'd lost. Like something was missing for a long time…and now it's not. I smile slightly and pull her closer. There's no need to wake her just yet.


	9. Calm After The Storm

Chapter 9: The Calm After The Storm

(Linda)

I sigh slightly as daylight wakes me, stretching golden fingertips into the small room and over my face, warm and gentle, unlike so much in my life lately. I shift a little and stretch, feeling a solid form beneath me.

Of course…Fulton. I glance upwards to see his face, softened in sleep. He looks so much younger, so unlike his tough-guy image that it makes me smile. It's odd, to be curled up against him, to have his arms around me, comforting and strong. So unlike Charlie. He was never very affectionate or soft, never interested enough to curl up with me like friends rather than lovers.

I'd never seen any other side to Fulton either. I always had the impression that he was just a bully-boy figure. Just one of the Bash Brothers, someone rough and tough with little personality or intelligence. How wrong we can be eh? He's sweeter, kinder and smarter than any other guy I've met. People might say he's dumb but they don't know him. And neither did I, evidently.

He snuffles slightly in his sleep, making me giggle quietly, but it's enough to bring him round. He peers down at me and a smile lights his face.

"What're you laughing at?" He mumbles.

"You." I grin. He rolls his eyes.

"Was I snoring?"

"Not much" I tease, prodding him in the ribs. He squirms and fends me off. I laugh outright and raise myself from the bed, heading for the bathroom, pulling my hair into a ponytail and wrapping an elastic around it. I'm strangely light-hearted, despite…well I suppose I should call it my "predicament" but that just sounds…

"What're you going to do today?" Fulton calls from the room as I splash water over my face.

I pause, knowing what he means but feigning ignorance. "Well first I'm going to try sneaking back to my own dorm room without being given a lifetime's worth of detentions, then I'll probably take a shower, read over my homework-"

"Not quite what I meant." He muttered, appearing in the doorway, frowning slightly. I sigh.

"Yeah I know." I shrug. "I dunno. There's not many options open to me are there? I suppose I'd better phone home and…er…break the good news to my parents." I grimace as I say this. Fulton moves forward and puts his hands on my shoulders.

"Do you want me to be there?"

His sentiment touches me deeply, bringing fresh tears to my eyes. "No" I say finally "I'd rather do it alone."

"But you'll let me know how it goes?"

"Sure." I smile faintly. "Can't see as how you'd care but hey." I shrug and pass off the comment with a short, forced laugh to make it sound light hearted. Fulton makes an indistinct noise in his throat and squeezes my arms.

"Linda, you know I do. After everything we talked about last night? You know I care what happens. What Charlie did to you was wrong, you've been through so much, I don't want you to be hurt any more, and if I can be there to make sure you're not then I want to be. Okay?"

I nod, unable to speak, and give him what must be a rather watery smile. He smiles back and hands me some toilet tissue.

"Now. Clean up your tears! I'll escort you to your dorm, m'lady." He peers down his nose and offers me his arm. I give in and a burst of laughter erupts from me unexpectedly. I wrap own arm through his and we walk from his room, taking care to creep as quietly as possible past the other dormitory doors. Getting caught in the boys' dorms, in Fulton's room by his team mates…I'd never hear the end of it.

* * *

(Fulton)

I saw Linda back to her room. Her room mate didn't look impressed…shocked and excited at the possibility of fresh gossip, but not impressed. But what do I care? We both know nothing happened, and that I was just a friend in need for her. And as much as that thought stings me, it _is_ the truth.

But now…I'm on my way to find Dwayne. I have no idea whose room he ended up in last night. He wouldn't have gone back to Charlie's room, not since I let him have Adam's bed in mine. But he never turned up last night. So…it's time to call on the other Ducks. My first stop: Portman's room. I knock loudly on the door and wait for several seconds. No answer. I knock again, much louder and hear a groan…no, _several_ groans…what?

"Portman? You in there man?" I call. There are mumblings. A number of voices. _What the hell?_ "Portman? Get your butt out here dude!"

Finally, the door creaks open and Portman's bleary face peers out.

"Dude…what? It's too early to be up. Why are you even awake?"

"I…was looking for Dwayne. He didn't come back to our room last night, do you know where he ended up?"

Portman steps back and opens the door wider. "Just take a look man, you'll probably find him on the floor there somewhere."

I blink into the shadowy murk of the room beyond and as my eyes adjust I see a number of dark lumps squashed on the floor…the rest of the Ducks.

"Dude…what happened last night?"

Portman grinned. "You missed it man! Alcohol. Lots of alcohol. After the movie we came back and Guy mentioned his stash of beer and…it went downhill from there." He gave a short chuckle. "Everyone's there. Except you. Where'd you go man? We missed you! Well, before the third beer anyway."

I shrugged. "I…was tired." Portman frowns vaguely then shrugs.

"Fair whatnots man. Well…good luck finding Dwayne." He yawns, runs a hand through his hair and shuffles back to bed. I sigh and begin to pick my way through the lifeless bodies on the floor, looking like the victims of some horrific road accident. As I gaze around, a chink of sunlight escaping under the blind picks out a head of curly auburn hair. I'd recognise it anywhere. I kneel beside my friend and shake him awake.

"Dwayne? Hey," I grin as I see his eyes open blearily "mornin' cowboy."

He squints up and tries to bring me into focus. "Fulton? What you doin' here? And at this time?"

"I came for you man. Didn't see you come back last night…" I nudge a few of the empty bottles on the floor. "Now I see why."

He lets his head fall back again and groans. "What d'you want Fulton? If it's to beat the crap outta me, I'm afraid I'm not entirely willin' to get up right now. You'll have to wait till my hangover's finished with me."

I sigh. "Dwayne…I'm not here to beat you up or anything like that. I just want to talk. Will you come for a walk with me?"

I can see mistrust shadowing his eyes briefly, but there must be a modicum of good judgement still rattling around amidst his hangover because he nods once, regrets it right after and pushes himself slowly up from the floor. I grin and slap his shoulder. "Atta man Dwayne!" He groans again and drags himself to the door.

* * *

"Look…Fulton…I'm really sorry about last night. I…don't know what I was thinking. I mean I know you're not…I guess…I'd hoped…" Dwayne's hands are twisting in his lap, he's sweating slightly. I feel pity for him, knowing how hard this must be. I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, man, its fine really. All forgotten. If anyone's in the wrong, anyway, it's me. I didn't mean to be so…harsh last night. It was out of order. So…I'm sorry too Dwayne. I shouldn't have acted the way I did." He smiles a little.

"We're quits then?"

"Yeah" I grin, punching him lightly on the arm. "Quits."


	10. The Third Person

Chapter 10: The Third Person

(Fulton)

"So…" breathes Dwayne as we wander back to my dorm room after a healthy breakfast (meaning everything I could reach that was covered in syrup in my case) "Where _did_ you get to last night? I thought you'd come back…and when you didn't…"

"Yeah" I grinned, "you thought I'd be lying in wait to kill you." He nods. I just punch him lightly on the arm. "Nah I just went back to our dorm room and stayed there."

"Oh." He looks a little put out. Hmm…strange…"Only…That room mate of Linda's, the one I go riding with, she said Linda stayed in our room with you last night." His voice is quiet, tentative. Ahh….he's verging on jealous? Perhaps not. Just cautious I suppose.

"Ah" I sigh, sticking my hands in my pockets, "yeah she was in our room last night. But before you say anything, nothing happened. She needed a friend, and I happened to turn up."

"But she's got plenty of friends she knows a lot better, why you?" He sounds almost petulant. I fight a snort of laughter.

"Well…it was Charlie again." Dwayne tenses; I can see it from the corner of my eye. He's really wound up about this.

"Has he…hurt her again?"

"…You could say that yes." I sigh and pause, wondering if I should tell him what's going on. But then, of course I should. It's Dwayne. We're all in this together; him, me and Linda. "He…he attacked her again and now…now she's pregnant. She doesn't know what to do. She was scared and upset last night so I took her back to our room to calm her down and talk to her. We just fell asleep in the end."

A very long silence.

Then: "He got her pregnant?" His voice is so quiet, a dangerous edge to it. I nod slowly. "What's she gonna do about it?"

"I honestly don't know. We didn't talk about the options much, just that she'd have to tell her parents. She doesn't really know how they'll take it. She's really scared Dwayne."

We reach our room and he heads straight in, flopping down to sit on his bed, his head in his hands.

"He's messed up so many lives Fulton." He mutters. "And now he's ruining hers too. It's got to stop."

"I know man, I know. But what can we do? We can't prove that he's done anything, and Linda doesn't have much of a case against him, they're only dating, not married or anything. He could get an assault charge but that's it. Nothing that would put him away, or keep him out of our lives. Maybe…we just need to wait. It's hard I know but it could be for the best."

"…I guess." He looks so defeated, his shoulders slumped, and his head bowed…a broken man. I'm about to reach out and say something to him when there's a timid knock on our door. Frowning I stride over and pull it open expecting to send the intruder packing when I recognise a familiar scent of vanilla and see Linda standing there, her face once more tear-stained and distraught. Immediately I'm pulling her into the room, into my arms, comforting her and letting her sobs take over, letting her get rid of her anguish before making her talk.

"Linda…what's happened now? What's wrong?"

Between sobs she manages to tell me that she phoned her parents. I'm guessing the outcome wasn't good.

"They…they said they don't w-want me to go b-back" she sniffles "they said either to get r-rid of it or I won't have a h-home…but either way I can't go home n-now! Not after this! They w-wouldn't take me back."

I fail to see how any parent could be so cold to their own child…but then her parents have a very good place in society, with the members of the school board, members of the court and government…I suppose they see Linda as a disgrace, something to be hidden and hushed up.

How very old-fashioned. And cruel.

"You…don't have a home?" Dwayne has come to stand beside me, looking at Linda with pity and sadness. She shakes her head.

"Doesn't look like it." She mumbles, wiping a sleeve across her eyes. Her eyes are shimmering again, swimming with tears. All I can do is hug her tight. There's nothing I can say. I don't have the same verbal proficiency as most guys. There's so much I want to say. So much I could say. If I could make my mouth synchronise with my brain. Stupid brain.

"What are you going to do about…the baby?" Linda glances at Dwayne then at me. I refrain from my brain-bashing long enough to be afraid that she's mad at me for telling Dwayne about that. But then she gives me a look that says it's alright. That I did the right thing. She shrugs.

"I honestly don't know. I mean…it's there because of rape…there because Charlie was vindictive and cruel and heartless…but it's also part of me." She looks down and raises a hand protectively to her abdomen, a strange look on her face. "I mean…I don't know who or what it'll be unless I give it a chance right? Everyone deserves a chance. It could be my last link to my family…could look like my brother, or my aunt…there's so much it could be, other than the child of a murderer…"

I've never heard a speech like that before. I honestly didn't think she'd want anything left of Charlie, especially not his baby. But Linda's always surprised me. I don't know why I should be staggered by her words now.

"So…you're going to keep your baby?" My words touch a nerve.

* * *

(Linda)

It was that word. _Your_. Because it is. It's _my_ baby. Mine. I can't fight the swell of emotions that stir in my stomach. It's something of me, something to love, something that tells me I'm not alone in the world anymore, no matter what anyone does to me. Because now I have someone to love and cherish, someone to think about, to live for. I stroke my stomach reflectively and smile. "Yes. I'm going to keep it. I'm going to do my damn best for it as well." Fulton smiles, blue eyes shining. He looks nothing short of proud. I grin and prod him. "And you can be honorary daddy." Ha! That wipes some of the smile off his face, but only for a second or two. It's Dwayne however who finds the problem.

"Linda…how are you going to keep it? If you can't go home…you can't stay at Eden Hall till the…the birth…and after that you'll need a home, somewhere to stay, a nursery, baby stuff…I don't want to put a downer on this but you've gotta think…"

Oh no…I really hadn't thought…what will I do? I can't get rid of my baby, not now, not ever! But…what other choice do I have? Social Services would take my child away…with nowhere to live, no job, no money…

"I…er…have to go for a minute." Murmurs Fulton, releasing me from his binding hug and almost running from the room.

What's got into him? Did I scare him with all this baby talk? Have I frightened off one of the only friends I have? I sigh unhappily. Dwayne puts an arm around my shoulders.

"Hey…I'm sorry Linda. I didn't mean to…y'know, screw up your plans or anything…"

"I know Dwayne…you didn't really, I just wasn't thinking. I mean…how _could_ I take care of it? You're right you know. It'd be best if I…" I can't say it. I can't voice the thought that I may have to kill my own baby…"I don't want it to hear me Dwayne" I whisper "is that stupid?"

His eyes gleam and he blinks quickly, forcing a wavering smile forward. "No" he mutters in a choked voice "it's not stupid at all. It's the smartest thing I've heard in a long time." And he leans his head against mine, both of us waiting for Fulton to return.

* * *

(Fulton)

"Yeah…ok…uh huh…that's awesome! Oh my gosh, thanks so much mom! Oh you're a star! Ok mom, I'll talk to you soon…yeah…uh huh…love you too mom, bye!"

Grinning I replace the phone receiver in its cradle on the hall wall, a lot happier than when I left my room. I practically dance all the way back. Linda's going to flip when she hears what I've got to tell her!


End file.
